Melita
I never had a chance to be soft
I was always bloody knuckles
I was always bloody knuckles
“Sunjata would probably appreciate that,” she nodded in agreement, watching as the salt seemed to be filtered away, admiring the transformation, and billowing steam away with her hands more than once. The agreement about repose after the conflict eased some of her doubts; that at least, others felt the same. They weren’t being useless – but there were other purposes and things to be done. “Right, yeah,” she wrinkled her nose, stepping back, arms folded across her chest as she awaited brine verdicts. “I’ve got enough to do, it’s just, y’know. Waiting for the next thing to fall apart. Even when shit’s going well.”
At her response though, the Honeybee nodded, snagging at the empty jug and several others, before skipping down the lane of dunes and sand. Repeating the same motions as before, she dipped one after the other below the waves, listening to it gurgle and bubble until filled, then rampaging back.
At her response though, the Honeybee nodded, snagging at the empty jug and several others, before skipping down the lane of dunes and sand. Repeating the same motions as before, she dipped one after the other below the waves, listening to it gurgle and bubble until filled, then rampaging back.
and shards of glass
I wanted people to be afraid of hurting me
I wanted people to be afraid of hurting me
